


i really fucked it up this time

by indiffrntnewt



Series: my newtmas oneshots [7]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Newt has the flare, The Flare, Thomas is a dork, You might cry, i rewrote parts of the letter?, idrk what to put here, its gay, its not THAT sad just sad, newt is just himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24286450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiffrntnewt/pseuds/indiffrntnewt
Summary: [Once Newt forgot, he wouldn’t be Newt anymore. Not his Newt.Newt was starting to forget]or; newt succumbing to the flare
Relationships: Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Series: my newtmas oneshots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1309421
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	i really fucked it up this time

The first time Newt forgot, Thomas barely even noticed.

They were sitting together in what was once Marcus’ car -- Bertha, as Jorge called the thing. Frypan was sprawled across the front seat, head resting against the door while his feet lay on the front passenger’s seat. As far as Thomas could see, his eyes were closed, resting after a long day of driving around the Scorch aimlessly. 

Thomas and Newt sat in the back; legs tangled in the small space they had left between the back and front seats. Newt was reading something while Thomas merely watched in silence, back resting against the door. He tried not to think of how Minho had sat in this exact same spot just months ago. 

Newt looked up every once in a while, flashing him a short smile before going back to reading, his face illuminated by the flashlight he was holding. He’d stopped asking Thomas to go to sleep what felt like hours ago, when Thomas had called him a hypocrite because he wasn’t asleep either. Thomas smiled at the memory. 

“What are you reading?”

His voice came out soft and croaky and Newt looked up at him, long blond hair falling into his face. He needed a haircut. The last time he’d allowed Thomas to attack his hair with scissors was weeks ago. 

“Dunno,” Newt said, shrugging. His voice seemed to echo through the rusty vehicle. “It’s one of the books I picked up from the old library but half the pages are missing.”

“Why are you still reading it, then?”

Newt shot him another short smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Distraction. Can’t sleep anyway.”

Thomas felt a tug at his heart and instinctively looked down at his folded hands. “I’m sorry.”

Newt huffed out a laugh. “You know, you have a habit of apologizing for things that are out of your control.”

“Sorry?” Thomas replied, looking back up. Newt’s eyes were twinkling with joy. Or maybe it was just the reflection of the flashlight. 

“Did it again.”

Thomas snorted. “Sorry.”

“Now you’re just doing it on purpose.”

They remained silent after that, looking at each other, small smiles resting on their faces. Thomas wondered how long the moment would last -- how many more of these moments would come. He enjoyed them.

Newt’s face fell. 

“You remind me of Alby a bit.”

Whatever Thomas had expected him to say, it hadn’t been that. _Alby, really?_ He hadn’t known the guy for that long, but never really thought they were similar in any way. Alby seemed distant and business-minded, while Thomas was curious and probably annoyed him with his questions. If anything, Newt was more like Alby than Thomas was. 

“Really?”

It came out weakly and Thomas cringed at himself. Newt nodded, his face now only half illuminated by the flashlight. 

“As emotionally distant as he was, he cared about people. Always made sure they were okay.” Newt shrugged. “He was a tough leader when he needed to be, but he was the one person that always checked in on me. Besides Minho, ‘course.”

Thomas tried to catch his eye, look at him, but Newt had lowered his face, plucking away at a loose thread in his sleeve. 

“Of course,” He said, his voice a lot softer than intended. “You’re my friend, why wouldn’t I check in on you?”

Newt smiled at that, a genuine smile, and looked back up. “That’s not what I meant. I meant that you both care -- _cared,_ too much. About everyone.”

Thomas stared at him for a while before responding. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Newt shook his head a tiny bit, not breaking their eye contact. “No. It’s just rare, I s’pose. Everyone here seems to care about themselves, and _only_ themselves. It’s nice that you don’t.”

Thomas shrugged, a bit flattered by his comments. “You do the same. Check in on us, I mean. I wouldn’t have been here without you.”

Newt reached out and gently placed his hand on Thomas’ leg, squeezing softly. For some reason, it sent tingles down Thomas’ spine, and he blinked several times to stay focused on Newt’s face. 

“It’s different with me, though. You know it is.”

Thomas frowned as deja vu washed over him, temporarily taking over his mind before he heard Frypan move, pulling him back to reality. Newt was still staring at him, his touch now burning on Thomas’ leg. 

“You’ve said that before,” Thomas smiled, trying to make a joke out of the situation, suppressing the nerves that arose inside of him. “Reusing the same material?”

Newt frowned, pulling back his hand and leaning against the car door. The spot where his hands had been just moments before felt cold and empty. “Have I?”

Just as Thomas was about to respond, Frypan let out an extra loud snore, and Newt turned to him with a smile on his lips. 

“We should probably get some sleep, too.”

“Yeah,” Thomas said, shaking off the uneasy feeling that had come over him after Newt’s odd question. It was fine. It was just one line in one conversation, of course he wouldn’t remember. 

“Night, Tommy.”

“Night, Newt.”

—

The second time Newt forgot, Thomas started to get worried.

The day had been great; due to Jorge and Vince finally figuring out how to work the radio and listen in on WCKD’s conversations, they now finally had a lead on Minho and the others. The two of them had been struggling with the device for months now, turning buttons and attaching wires to wires, all of it making Thomas’ brain fuzzy -- he and Newt were more than happy to be chosen as guards against the cranks and explorers whenever they found another seemingly empty building, Fry taking up his old position as their cook. 

That morning, Jorge had yelped when a voice finally came over the radio he’d been fiddling with since dawn. Thomas and Newt were over there within seconds, the three of them huddling around the radio as Vince woke up from his slumber, his head just beside the tiny device. 

The radio hadn’t worked very well, but they heard enough. A male voice seemed to be talking to someone, explaining how much time it’d take them to get to their destination, which train they’d take and how much security they’d need. Thomas was almost ready to give up and walk away when the WCKD employee mentioned the immunes. 

He exchanged a look with Newt -- not quite a hopeful one, but it was _something_. Once the radio cut itself out of the conversation, returning to its original buzz, Jorge turned it off with something that resembled a smile on his face. 

“Looks like we’ve got something here.”

They’d spent the rest of their morning speculating, wondering where they were headed, what route they would take and if they were indeed transferring the immunes, including Minho, to a different WCKD compound. They’d only stopped around noon, when Harriet had walked in, ushering them away to talk to Jorge and Vince herself. Thomas figured it had something to do with Aris and Sonya, not giving it much thought.

He and Newt walked out the abandoned building they’d been sleeping in for a week now, heading towards the small forest against the mountains to their right. It was one of the few places with actual shade in the Scorch, which resulted in many of their people spending their days there. Every once in a while, a crank would come down from the mountains, but they were often weak or already half-dead, so the leaders of the group told them it was safe enough. 

They walked in comfortable silence, eventually settling down on the edge of the forest, overlooking the tiny tents and torn-down buildings. Thomas sat down on a rock, while Newt sat across from him, leaning against a tree, legs crossed over each other. He rubbed his ankle, seemingly deep in thought. Thomas had seen him do that a lot lately. He wondered, once again, how Newt had injured his leg. Newt never answered his questions about it, always shrugging it off. Thomas had stopped asking. 

“You reckon it’s possible? Getting Minho off that train?”

Newt had dropped his arms in his lap, staring at Thomas intensely with a slight frown on his face. 

Thomas shrugged. “I think so. We have to at least try.”

Newt hummed, dropping his gaze to the ground. “I s’pose. Just feels a bit unrealistic.”

“You spent three years in a Maze surrounded by deadly creatures designed specifically to kill you,” Thomas pointed out. “Nothing’s unrealistic anymore.”

Newt laughed at that, his eyes still trained on the floor. “Yeah.”

They remained silent for a few minutes until Newt spoke up again. 

“Why d’you think Harriet’s so invested in this?”

When Thomas looked up, Newt was looking at him, a strange expression on his face. His eyes were blank, almost glazed over. It made Thomas a bit uneasy. 

Then, he realized what Newt had asked. 

_Why was Harriet so invested in this?_

Thomas’ eyes narrowed. “What?”

Newt shrugged, that strange look still on his face. “Just saying. She didn’t know Minho.”

For some reason, panic arose in Thomas, gripping his heart. It was cold and sharp, almost painful. 

“Newt, what are you talking about? She -”

He didn’t know how to continue, not sure if Newt was being serious. 

Newt looked at him again, his face devoid of expression, and Thomas frowned. 

“She’s doing this for Aris and Sonya, of course,” he said, almost chuckling. Newt frowned at him. 

“Aris-”

Then, as soon as the strange expression had come over his face, it vanished. Newt’s blank face turned into one of realization, and he raised his eyebrows, letting out a long ‘ohhhh’. 

He grinned at Thomas, all traces of whatever just happened to him gone. “Aris, ‘course. And Sonya. I almost forgot.”

He leaned back and laughed, shoulders shaking, but Thomas didn’t feel joy in the slightest. 

“Newt? You okay?”

His concern must’ve been obvious in his voice, because Newt looked straight at him, his grin turning into a soft smile. 

“Yeah, Tommy. I’m okay.”

—

The third time Newt forgot, Thomas knew. 

He didn’t know. Not _really._ But looking back at it years later, he figured he at least suspected it, but was too stubborn to give in to that threatening feeli _ng, because _it couldn’t be Newt, not this Newt, not his Newt.__

Newt was watching him. Thomas lay on his side, facing Newt, and Newt was watching him. 

“We’re closer than ever.”

Thomas nodded. 

“We’re gonna get him back.”

Thomas nodded again.

“I can’t wait to go home. See everyone again. Alby, Ben, Chuck -”

Silence. 

“Newt?”

—

The fourth time Newt forgot, it killed him. 

—

_Dear Tommy,_

_This is the first letter that I can remember writing. Obviously, I don’t know if I wrote any before the Maze (and you know my memory hasn’t been the best lately), but even if it’s not my first, it’s likely to be my last._

_I want you to know that I’m not scared. Not of dying, anyway. Death is something that I’ve been prepared for for a really long time, longer than you probably know. It’s okay. It’s peaceful, in a way. I’ve had my second chance, and it’s been great, but now it’s time. I’m just glad I got to spend my second chance at life with you._

_I’m more scared of forgetting. Losing myself to this virus, that’s what frightens me. It’s been frightening me for a very long time now. So every night, I’ve been saying their names out loud. Alby. Winston. Chuck. I repeat them over and over, like a prayer, and it all comes flooding back._

_It’s the little things like the way the sun would hit the Glade at that perfect moment, right before it dipped beneath the walls. I remember the taste of Frypan’s stew. Gosh, I never thought I’d miss that stuff so much (by the way, don’t ever ask what’s in it!)._

_And, of course, I remember you. I remember the first time you came up in the Box, just a scared little Greenie who couldn’t even remember his own name. But from that moment you ran into the Maze, I knew I would follow you anywhere. And I have, although it wasn’t easy taking those first steps with you into the unknown. But I’ve learnt that there are no easy choices in life. Leaving you and Minho behind so you two can live isn’t one of them, though. I know your stupid arse will feel guilty, but don’t. Ever since I discovered that I was infected, my mind has been set on saving you two, and only you two. I want this for you. The Safe Haven, paradise, everything._

_If I could do it all over again, I would, and I wouldn’t change a thing. My hope for you, Tommy, is that when you’re looking back, years from now, you’ll be able to say the same. The future’s in your hand now, Tommy. And I know you’ll find a way to do what’s right. You always have._

_Take care of everyone for me. And take care of yourself. You deserve to be happy._

_Thank you for being my friend, Tommy. May we meet again._

_Goodbye mate,_

_Newt_

**Author's Note:**

> tysm to tanya aka the literal love of my life for proofreading this, i'm sorry i made you cry <3


End file.
